


exhale (this is hungry work)

by softgrantaire



Category: Druck | SKAM (Germany)
Genre: Coming Out, M/M, Trans David
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-02-04 15:27:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18607312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softgrantaire/pseuds/softgrantaire
Summary: He recognizes the handwriting; of course he does.‘Like you said, you’ve seen the rest of it. You’ve seen the rest of ME; might as well see everything.’He knows what that means, remembers joking in the kitchen. He opens the notebook gently, not wanting to rip any pages. This was David, and he didn’t want to tear what they had had any more. He turns to the last pages, and takes a deep breath.Or David comes out to Matteo through his private drawings.





	exhale (this is hungry work)

**Author's Note:**

> Because tumblr user nuevayor made a post about David coming out to Matteo through his private drawings.

He’s just gotten back from talking to Sara when he runs into Hans in the hallway.

 

“There’s something in your room for you.” He doesn’t elaborate, just sends a small smirk; Matteo doesn’t thinking anything of it, Hans smirks more often than he doesn’t. He’s expecting something silly, maybe a sausage on his pillow, but stops short when he sees what’s resting on his mattress.

 

He’d recognize that notebook anyway, vivid memories of David mockingly explaining what a collage is, pages folded together.

 

There’s a note with it, words scrawled hastily across a scrap of paper.

 

He recognizes the handwriting; of course he does.

 

_‘Like you said, you’ve seen the rest of it. You’ve seen the rest of ME; might as well see everything.’_

 

He knows what that means, remembers joking in the kitchen. He opens the notebook gently, not wanting to rip any pages. This was David, and he didn’t want to tear what they had had any more. He turns to the last pages, and takes a deep breath.

 

The first page makes him exhale harshly. A black heart, drawn in David’s signature style. There are slashes running through it, but the thing that makes his heart pound are the words just above it.

 

_I’ll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife._

 

He recognizes the lyrics and has a flashback to listening to the song on repeat before he got David’s message. _Lovesick idiot._

 

He looks at the heart again, the slashes across the page looking suddenly sharper.

 

_Is this how David feels?_ Is this what he was afraid of? Matteo learning his secrets, and hating him for it? 

 

He inhales again, having a feeling he won’t be able to breathe until he’s closed the book fully.

 

The second page is very obviously a set of lungs; they look to be underwater, covered entirely in black flowers. On a closer look, the flowers look dead, petals floating in the water.

 

_No masters or kings when the ritual begins,_ say the words above it.

 

Matteo may not know much about art, but he does have a vivid memory of ‘being underwater’ with David. He can tell the picture is meant to symbolize holding your breath, drowning. The lyrics confuse him, though; ritual?

 

He shakes his head, and turns the page. The next drawing he recognizes; it had been posted on David’s Instagram earlier that day, a dancer of some sort. Matteo smiles slightly. _He’s showing a private piece of him to the world._ There was writing in the background that he couldn’t read, but more lyrics - at least, he assumes they’re lyrics - at the top of the page that he hadn’t seen on Instagram.

 

_Always a well dressed fraud._

 

It wasn’t from the same song, but Matteo made a note to look it up later. If it was important to David, it’s important to him. Even if he himself wasn’t important to David.

 

He turns the page. 

 

For a moment, he just stares. It’s the same set of lungs, but in this drawing only half is underwater; the other half looks completely different. Where the flowers were dead and falling to pieces underwater, the part of the drawing that’s above water is covered in beautifully alive flowers.

 

Matteo hadn’t seen many drawings of David’s in color, but the soft blue and pink flowers contrasted with the decaying flowers below.

 

The lyric below was another he recognized:

 

_This is hungry work._

 

He’s never been known for his intelligence or grasp of imagery, but he imagines the ‘hungry work’ is the effort it’s taken to grow, to emerge. 

 

He turns the page.

 

The next drawing is a dancer similar to the previous one, but instead of staring face on and reaching up, the dancer is reaching somewhere to the left, drawn in profile. There’s color on this as well, the same soft pink making up the flowing skirt and the pastel blue the more masculine torso.

 

_All that I’ve been taught and every word I’ve got is foreign to me._

 

He turns the page.

 

He was expecting the set of lungs, but he wasn’t ready for the transformation. It was almost completely out of the water; gone were the dead flowers, replaced by what looks like the roots from a tree. The new flowers were the same type, except there were white flowers mixed in with the pastel blue and pink.

 

_Only then I am human, only then I am clean._

 

He turns the next page, and just sees a single word.

 

_Exhale._

 

That, he understands. It puts the other pictures in perspective; underwater, unable to grow, suffocating. Above water, able.

 

He knows there’s significance in the colors as well. David hasn’t used much color before, and Matteo knows there is a reason for everything he draws.

 

Blue and pink he knew symbolized masculinity/femininity. He was an idiot, but he can still see that. The white he’s confused about. Contrast, maybe? Showing the difference between the colors?

 

His phone buzzes on his pillow.  


 

‘Can I come up?’

 

Of course it’s David.

 

He shoots a message in return, a simple ‘Buzzing you in now’.

 

He waits, holding his breath for what feels like the tenth time in half an hour.

 

The sight of David as he opens the door takes that breath away. He’s still gorgeous, even with bags under his eyes. 

 

“Hey.”

 

“Hey.”

 

Matteo can admit he stares at him for a beat too long, but he’s always stared at David for a beat too long. He shakes his head, gesturing for him to enter.

 

“I’d like to…explain myself,” David starts, before he even removes his jacket. “I did some things, and said some things that I shouldn’t have. I know this. Can I please explain?”

 

“What do they mean?” Matteo blurts out before he can continue. “The drawings.”

 

“What do you think they mean?” David whispers, taking off his jacket.

 

“I’m not the brightest bulb in the box, but I’m assuming the lungs are for slowly breathing again. Growth, or something. The colors -”

 

“The colors?”

 

“I thought maybe…because the skirt of the dancer is pink but the more masculine part is blue it’s to do with that?”

 

“That?”

 

“Gender - David, I don’t know, you know I’m an idiot with barely a single brain cell. You have to spell it out.”

 

“You know, people don't give you enough credit.” There’s a soft look on David’s face that Matteo really can’t deal with right now. David reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small slip of paper; he hands it to Matteo, rocking back and forth on his heels.

 

Matteo opens it carefully. He’s not surprised to see the young man - David - depicted. He’s waving a flag in the same colors he’d used in his private drawings.

 

“What’s this?”

 

“It’s called a flag,” he responds with a half heated smirk. Matteo has a brief but vivid flashback to that first day in his flat, David teasing him with a brighter grin.

 

Matteo rolls his eyes. “Fuck off. You know what I meant.”

 

David returns to his nervous shuffling. “It’s a pride flag.”

 

Matteo is silent, waiting for him to finish. He inhales deeply.

 

“A - trans. Pride flag.”

 

“Trans…gender?”

 

David nods and looks as if he’s bracing himself to be struck. Matteo’s heart breaks for him, that this - bracing himself for violence - was his first reaction.

 

“Oh, okay.”

 

“‘Oh, okay’?! What does that mean?”

 

“That means Hans is my roommate and a lot of his friends are trans,” Matteo explains. “He also physically sat me down the other day to give me a lesson on the Stonewall riots. There was a slideshow. I may not know everything and definitely never will, but I know some things. It doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

 

David rushes forward and presses his lips to Matteo’s. In his haste, he misses, hitting his chin. He pulls back, already apologizing for kissing him without asking or explaining first.

 

Matteo stops his apologies with a kiss of his own. They kiss for centuries, getting used to each other again. He pulls away, near panting. “This is why? Why you sent those messages? Were you afraid of how I’d react?”

 

David nods and rests his forehead against the other boy’s. “Not a lot of cis men are okay with being with a trans man.”

 

“Well, they’re stupid and transphobic - is that right? Like I said, I’m not one hundred person knowledgable, but I’m pretty sure that’s transphobic, right?”

 

David nods, eyes glistening with tears. “Yeah, that’s right.”

 

“David, no matter how cheesy this sounds, you’re the man of my dreams. Being trans doesn’t change that.”

 

David kisses him forcefully again before he had even closed his mouth, gasping against his lips. His first taste of David in over two weeks lit him up completely. He brought his hands to David’s hair and felt David’s hands in his own, tugging slightly. He pulls away and smirks at Matteo’s small sound of protest before smiling gently. “Say it again?”

 

“Say what?”

 

“That I’m the man of your dreams.”

 

Matteo knows the smile he sends in return is soft. 

 

“You are the man of my dreams.” 


End file.
